Early to bed and early to rise …….

drunk derelict destitute….

the lucky ones, retarded at best….

never finishing anything….

apathy, familiar, encompassing….

.. ..

the battle cry of youth of the west…..

if only this wasn’t fiction, the idea that i could snap my fingers and be transported to a new consciousness. What is it that is so appealing about disrupting the narrative of life. All thoughts of such are simply mental masturbation. Can we not enjoy our existence as is, better ourselves and live peacefully. What is it about the fictive, that which lies just on  the horizon of our suspended disbelief that is so appealing. I’m not quite sure yet, but I am damn sure going to find out. 

(via reckless-wh0ree)

(via encontreme)

I am a girl now deconstructed An error in progress An ode to what may have been a real woman A tragedy The shadow of a beauty queen And the reflection of a monstrosity I am a people pleasing perfectionist that never succeeds. I am words of freedom and empowerment trapped in eternal silence. I am things unspoken, A stomping ground for guilt and shame. I am a girl now deconstructed I am an error once progressed. I am a tragic ending. I am all that I fear to be. I am

me.

(via wildhearts-cantbebroken)

Writing it all down is a means of [catharsis] purging; putting all your stories down on paper takes them out of the nightmare realm. It makes you free,almost, to love yourself for being able to face them.

It subtly gives you a way to love the people you write about—even the ones you fought with are disgusted by or loathe…. the possibility of redemption exist for all; it is the last frontier of redemption for the self depreciating and loathing.

Writing can bring absolution; with the power of rabbis, priests, ministers, psychoanalysts, and anti-depressants all the same.

Humanity; the magical key … the greatest element of  healing power yet the greatest flaw of  those who sanctify it’s name. Humanity, the only thing , the ‘magical’ reason, absolution offers redemption. It is felt, acknowleged, known.

Whether through poem in canto , G-d in flesh, spiritual metaphor; or anthropomorphized revelation, you wait to be told; ‘ you are not inherently bad’ . Redemption exists in humanity, mortality; finding a means to arrive at a cathartic end … a resolve for unchosen beginings.

I was beautiful once …..

.. ..

.. ..

And then once more,….

but not again….

.. ..

My beauty left by taxi….

.. ..

Destination, ….

Friends…..

.. ..

.. ..

I wish she loved me like she fuck me…..

False hope to rein my pain…..

.. ..

I existed then…..

.. ..

                        Beautifully…..

I think the concept of separating people based on their sexual orientation even being discussed is proof that human beings are self-centered. Is every heterosexual attracted to every person of the opposite sex? For people to think they are so damn important that ‘laws’ that otherwise apply do not apply, i.e decency, consent, attraction to homosexual individuals, is vain, ridiculous, and just speaks to perpetuated ludicrous hypercritical heteronormative aspects of western society that keep our private and public selves bigoted incongruent and indifferent. 

(via encontreme)